


take your time (coming home)

by jewishfitz



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (you know the one), F/M, Season 6 Speculation, mentions of canon major character death, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 22:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15958421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewishfitz/pseuds/jewishfitz
Summary: Fitz, newly awakened, gets his bearings





	take your time (coming home)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta’d by the fantastic [@drdrdrfitzsimmons](https://drdrdrfitzsimmons.tumblr.com/). Title is from [Take Your Time (Coming Home) by fun.](https://youtu.be/Yj-wxMs2JvQ)

What a strange thing, he thought, to die and not remember it. To be told that your heart had stopped and that the light had gone out of your eyes. To be told that you had been gone, properly gone, and to have no memory of the event. Maybe it was a blessing. But he didn’t think so. Maybe if he had remembered, he could have a reason for the dull pain inside him. But instead he was left with a blank slate, and reasonless hurt rattling around inside him like coins in glass jar.   
  
Space was far more lonely than he had expected. The stars seemed a little too disjointed and unfamiliar from his view on the bridge of the Zephyr. He had been told they were around Jupiter; but he had no familiar constellations to ground him. He wished he could just enjoy the view, but he was far too distracted by the changes around him (both with the Zephyr itself and the people inside it). He knew the basics, and that was enough for now. How strange it was to hear his own experiences — or what should have been his experiences — relaid to him by others, or through the low-grade quality of a standard S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued cameraphone. He hadn’t talked at length to anyone but Jemma yet, but the sense of un-belonging was everywhere: in the hesitant pauses between sentences, the careful breaking of news, and the way that some of his closest friends still averted their eyes around him. Even the unfamiliar patterns of the stars seemed to say what he felt in his very core: you do not belong here.

 

What a strange thing, indeed, to be a still-living ghost.   
  
He was startled out of his thoughts by quiet hand on his shoulder, and Jemma looking up at him with a shy smile. “Couldn’t sleep?”   
  
He nodded. “Too busy trying to catch up.”   
  
She nodded. Carefully, as if he was still not quite corporeal, she wrapped and arm around his waist, rested her head on his shoulder, and turned to stargaze with him.

  
They were quiet, for a while. It was just them and the field of stars outside the reinforced windows. Then, she spoke: “Are we ok?”   
  
He sighed. “Of course, Jem. We’ll always be okay, you and I.”   
  
She chuckled sadly. “I suppose so. You’re here, after all.”   
  
He smiled. Not wide, but it was a start. “You’re right.”   
  
“I always am.”   
  
“It’s strange,” he said, eyes scanning the darkness in front of them. “To fall asleep on earth, and wake up millions of miles away.” He looked down at her. “I know where I am, theoretically. In relation to the planets and the stars.” In relation to you, he thought. In relation to the team. In relation to him. To me _. _ “I guess I just still feel a little lost. Knowing where home is on a map is different from really knowing inside.”   
  
“Silly Fitz,” she said, something in her eyes and voice like they were still 16 and he had forgotten to take notes during an early morning lecture. “I can tell you where home is.” She turned to face him, and placed a hand over his heart. “It’s here. It’s us. It will always be us. You and I.”   
  
“You and I,” he echoed back.   
  
He suddenly remembered the time that they had stood together out in the falling ash. How he had looked over at her and been struck by the realization that this was where he belonged in the vastness of the universe. Standing by her side, for as long as he could.   
  
She leaned up, and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go back to bed.”   
  
He smiled. “Yeah, let’s.”   
  
It might take a long time to re-learn the art of belonging on a grand scale, but he knew where home was now: next to her.


End file.
